#okay time to tag all the characters i mentioned

[berystraw]

A Little Too Drunk To Remember

[P.J Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist]

Warning: usage of y/n and y/l/n (like 5 times I think), mention of alcohol and being drunk, Annabeth close to murdering Percy, kissing, aged up pjo characters

Pairing: reader x Percy Jackson

W.C: 2k Note: I'm planning on making my Percy Jackson tag list! Comment if you want to be part of it! Also if you want to be part of my overall taglist! Synopsis: After celebrating a bit too much after their win, Percy gets a little too drunk to remember who his girlfriend is.

Camp Half-Blood had just completed another successful game of Capture the Flag on Friday. The blue team emerged as the victors, thanks to the exceptional leadership of the Athena Cabin. To commemorate their win, a celebration was organized in their honor. Once Chiron and Mr. D had retired for the night, the real party began. The Hermes cabin unveiled their covert stash of pilfered alcoholic beverages. Both blue and red team members danced and reveled throughout the night. Percy, being part of the blue team, was not exempt from the festivities.

By midnight, Grover, Annabeth, and a thoroughly intoxicated Percy stumbled onto the front porch of Poseidon's cabin. "Percy, get up! You can't sleep outside here!" whispered Annabeth, attempting to help him rise from his slumber on the chilly cement floor. "Hold him while I open the door," Grover instructed Annabeth, who stared at him with wide eyes. "I swear, I'm getting annoyed," she grumbled, struggling to keep Percy upright. "Come on, Percy. We're almost there," Grover said, taking one of Percy's arms and placing it over his shoulder, guiding him inside the cabin. The three of them attempted to enter the cabin discreetly, but Percy tripped over nothing, causing Grover and Annabeth to stumble along with him.

"Ow! Percy!"

"Seaweed-brain, you're heavy!"

"Shhhhh! Be quiet, both of you!"

"What the hell is going on?" a voice asked, and moments later, the lights flickered on. You stood there, slightly shocked, observing the scene before you. "You guys look like you could use some help," you chuckled, walking towards the group. You assisted Annabeth and Grover in standing up before the three of you carried Percy to one of the beds in the corner of the room. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you gently laid Percy down on the soft mattress.

"I was this close to leaving him on the ground," Annabeth said, raising her hand to demonstrate the small distance between her thumb and forefinger. You laughed at her playful gesture and glanced at Percy, who lay on the bed completely oblivious to the minor predicament he had caused. "I would have done the same if I were both of you," you shrugged, causing the two of them to laugh.

After some persuasion, you managed to convince Annabeth and Grover to retire for the night instead of trying to assist you with the situation that went by the name of Percy Jackson. You sat down on the bed beside Percy and reached out to touch his curly blonde hair, which had grown longer over the past three months. Rising from your seat, you walked towards the small closet next to the bed and retrieved some fresh, comfortable clothes for him to sleep in. Placing them on the edge of the bed, you attempted to wake Percy. "Perc? Babe, you need to wake up and change," you whispered. He emitted a small grunt, slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes, adjusting to the bright light in the room.

He took the clothes from your hands and was about to lift his shirt when he paused, looking at you. "Miss, you seem nice and all, but could you please look away? I don't think it would be appropriate to change in front of a girl, especially considering I have a girlfriend," Percy's words caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but giggle, causing his eyebrows to furrow in confusion. "Uh, okay. I'll be in the restroom if you need me," you said, trying to stifle your laughter. He nodded, waiting for you to enter the restroom and close the door before changing out of his soiled clothes.

You covered your mouth with your hand, attempting to suppress your laughter. The serious expression on Percy's face as he made his request amused you. It was at that moment you realized that he mistook you for someone else. After a few minutes, you decided to emerge from the restroom. You saw Percy surveying the room as if it were his first time entering it."You okay, Perce?" You asked him out of concern. He had only broken out of his trance when you placed a hand on his shoulder. His blue eyes looked up at you and you were stopping yourself from melting right there and then. "You still need to brush your teeth before bed," You reminded him and he calmly nodded before walking towards the restroom. 

You stared at his stumbling figure as he walked. You were about to walk over to him to help but he raised his hand in front of you, giving you a sign that he's alright. You lay down on your side of the bed, waiting for your boyfriend to come back. You didn't realize you were starting to fall asleep and didn't notice he had already left the restroom. 

You woke up to the sound of shuffling. "Percy?" You groggle reaching out for his side but feel only the cold bedsheets. Eyes lazily opening, you look down from the bed and see Percy lying uncomfortably on the cold tiled floor of his cabin. "Parcy, baby, you can't sleep there," You tried convincing him but he only shook his head. 

"I can't. I don't want to upset y/n," He sleepily said. "Why is that? I'm sure she wouldn't mind," You giggled lightly and hoped it convinced him but it didn't. He shook his head again and turned in the other direction. "I don't want to sleep beside someone who isn't my girlfriend. Goodnight, miss," After that, you realized you wouldn't be able to convince him at all so you just decided to sleep. 

You had a bit of trouble sleeping since you weren't exactly used to sleeping without Percy beside you. Eventually, as the music from outside slowly ceased, your eyes also slowly closed due to sleepiness. It wasn't the best but it would do. 

Hours later, you woke up to the sound of loud music playing. Being a child of Apollo does suck sometimes. The sun god would ride in his amazing chariot in the morning while blaring loud music that only his children would hear. "He does like showing off, even to his children," You mumble as you get out of the bed and walk to the restroom. You spotted Percy still lying on the cold floor, sleeping. You crouched down by his head pushed his hair out his forehead and gave it a gentle kiss. 

You walked to the bathroom and did your business. When you walked out you saw Percy sitting on the floor with his hands on his head. "You okay there babe?" You asked him. You obviously know he wasn't feeling well, you just wanted him to confirm it. "No, my head is throbbing like crazy and why am I sleeping on the floor? My whole body is screaming in pain right now," He said massaging his shoulder. 

"You refused to sleep beside me last night so you just slept on the floor," You said sitting on the bed with a hot cup of coffee in hand. "Why would I do that?" He asked confused. "I swear I couldn't remember a single thing from last night," 

"Well, you got carried here by Grover and Annabeth and when you got in you refused to let me touch you or be near you in fear of your "girlfriend" getting angry," You recall the happenings from last night. He stared at you in confusion while grabbing your hand to let you play with his hair. 

"Why would I do that?" He asks himself while staring off into the distance. "I don't know, baby. You tell me," You shrug while sipping your coffee. You spent a few minutes in silence, your hand never stopping to play with Percy's hair. "OH MY GODS" You suddenly hear him say out loud and you instantly realize he remembered everything from last night. "I did not just say that," He had his face buried in his hands with his ears turning a bright shade of red in embarrassment. You laughed while he continued to whine and complain in embarrassment. 

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "It's okay baby don't need to say sorry. I found it hilarious last night," You laughed. Percy slowly stood up and wrapped his arms around your frame. He had to bend down a bit because he was taller than your sitting figure. "I'm sorry," His head was burning in between your shoulder and neck, and you felt wet and gentle kisses being placed on your neck. 

"It's fine, baby, I understand," You chuckled lightly and stroked his hair. If you never heard a human purr before, now you do. You and Percy stay silent like that for a few minutes more. It was getting rare for the both of you to have any peace around her now that more campers were starting to enter camp day by day. Damn, those gods be multiplying every day. Percy had to help train some kids while you had to take care of the new Apollo kids that were claimed by your father. Both of you seemed so busy that it's starting to become a rare occurrence for you both to be like this with each other. You just realized now how much you craved your boyfriend's warm and soft embrace. It makes you not want to let him go. 

"My headache is healing," Percy mumbles after a few minutes. You look at your hands and see them glowing golden. "Oops, my bad," You laughed. Percy grabs a hold of your thighs and lifts you. You yelped and held on to him in panic. He laughs at the sound and sets you down on his lap. "I missed you," He says brushing a strand of hair out of your face and behind your ear. "I missed you too," You say while you stared at his blue eyes that greatly reminded you of the ocean. 

"I missed you too, Percy," You smiled. He stared at you a few seconds more before removing the gap between both of you. His lips tasted sweet from the sugary blue candy his mother gave him before he left for camp and a hint of saltiness that reminded you of ocean water. How did he taste like that? You don't even know. His lips felt so soft and pillowy against your own and you just know he was using the lip cream you gave him after you told him how chapped his lips were. 

After a moment you both pull away, breathless. Percy smiles as he stares at your breathless figure. Lips plump, cheeks flushed, and eyes sparkling. That's when he realized how so in love he was with you and you felt the same about him too. The two of you stared at each other with love and so much passion. Not even the gods can deny how much you both were made for each other. 

"Y/n we need yo-" Both you and Percy's heads turn to the door of the cabin. You saw Will and Lee standing by the entrance, cheeks pink after seeing the position you were both in. "Percy are you awa-" Annabeth and Grover arrive behind the two Apollo children and freeze after seeing you both.

"We'll just-" "I think it's better if we-"

"Yeah," The 4 close the door, and you and Percy look at each other and start to laugh loudly. "Did you see Grover's face?" Percy asked in between his laughter. "Poor young Will!" You wheezed. "Jackson you better get out of there in the next 5 minutes!" You both hear Annabeth yell from the outside but none of you paid attention after remembering the way her face turned so red. "Y/L/N we need help out here!" Lee yelled out. 

"You heard them, Jackson, you need to leave," You say to him after the both of you calm down. "You need to as well Y/L/N," He said back with a smirk. He was leaning down to kiss you again before…

"Y/L/N!" "JACKSON!" 

Maybe next time…

[steviewashere]

Loving Who You Are, Not What You Offer

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Referenced Rape/Non-Con (Not Between Main Pairing), Panic Attack (Sort of) Tags: Post Season 4, Post Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Steve Harrington, Coming Out, Protective Eddie Munson, Patient Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has Sexual Trauma, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Slight Comphet Steve Harrington, Dialogue Heavy

Okay, honestly, this one comes from a more personal place. So I'm gonna have to ask y'all to be kind about this one. I've recently come to terms that I'm somewhere on the asexual spectrum and I just needed to apply that somewhere, so. Also, writing from Eddie's point of view rather than Steve's helps me, so I don't wanna hear shit about it.

Read the content warning one more time before you continue and let me know if I missed anything <3

🩵—————🩵 There was an uncovered layer to Steve Harrington, that much Eddie has deduced.

It’s a subtle, blink and you wouldn’t notice, kind of thing. But even this uncovered layer had layers. And he’s not sure if anybody else has caught on. He was able to catalog several odd things about Steve that just…didn’t match his character. Not at all. Which has led, though it started casually and accidentally, to Eddie making a whole new doctrine.

The Odd Steve Behavior Doctrine. With a few noticeable bullet points:

-Don’t touch him without asking -Don’t ask him about his sex life -Don’t talk about sex around him, at all -He especially doesn’t like casual intimacy -Earning Steve’s trust is like climbing up a rocky mountain

He follows these rules he’s made for himself. Tries to keep himself casual and known in Steve’s presence. And hopes that it’s enough to get Steve to crack, even the slightest. Maybe he’ll say why these things bother him, Eddie initially thought.

Maybe I’ll just keep my mouth shut and let Steve come to me in his own time, he eventually noted. Because he doesn’t need to be in everybody’s business all the time, which is a typical thing for Eddie. He likes being nosy and involved with the lives of people around him. He likes to think of himself as the person his friends can come to, no matter the reason or the intensity of their need. And maybe part of it is selfish, too. He can admit that to himself. That he, in turn, wants to be everything Steve needs at the end of the day. Bearing the brunt of all that Steve has going wrong or right in his life.

Things come to Eddie little by little from Steve’s mouth. None that answer to any of the bullets in his doctrine, but things that are important, too. Like confessions, moments that Steve saw as flaws.

“I called Jonathan Byers a queer in 1983. That’s why he beat me up. I deserved it,” he told Eddie one day. Casually, complete nonchalance, as easy as discussing the weather. Steve had been cradling a mug of coffee at their local diner. Picked at the pancake platter he ordered all for himself. And, at Eddie’s coming out (“I’m gay, Steve,” Eddie admitted quietly mere moments before. He brought up love lives. Was poking around what was going on with Steve’s. And casually, he realizes, it just came up.), Steve took a sharp inhale. Confessed this bomb of a statement. Grimaced at the memory that must’ve played out behind his eyes. Then, murmured, “But thank you for trusting me with that, Eddie. I just need you to know that I was somebody you wouldn’t before. In case that…In case maybe you wanna take back that trust. Wouldn’t blame you, that’s all I’m saying.”

Eddie sat in that for a good several moments. As they slurped at their room temperature, rather mediocre mugs of Joe. “I still trust you,” he eventually said, “You don’t have to keep proving yourself to me, you know?” Steve merely shrugged. And that was confessional number one.

Following that, Steve mentioned being tortured by Russians. Which, Eddie thought that was reason for him not liking touch. It may be part of the reason, but there was something to Steve’s eyes that told him that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Eddie didn’t ask. Steve didn’t elaborate. Tortured by Russians, beat up by his peers, chewed up like a dog toy, the list in Eddie’s mind of All the Bad Things That Happened to Steve was growing longer and longer by the day. But Steve was telling him things, letting him in. It was a start.

So, Eddie had two catalogs all about Steve to keep up with in his mind. All the Bad Things and The Do’s and Don’ts of Steve Harrington.

Being his friend was an earned thing and it was a pleasant thing, but it also broke Eddie’s heart bit by bit. He’d never admit to this, but he had to realize that at some point. He wondered if Robin ever felt the same. Maybe even Nancy. But he wasn’t going to ask. Because who asks something like that? Eddie won’t be the first, but it won’t be the last somebody thinks that, he’s sure.

Even though Steve was breaking through his own mold, cracking his mask, shattering mirrors of who he was, none of it actually answered any of Eddie’s don’ts regarding him. None of it eased him. None of it lended itself in any sort of way. If anything, all of these other greater things only added to the incessant itch that couldn’t be scratched under Eddie’s skin.

Who are you really, Steve, Eddie asked himself all too much.

He doesn’t want to upset the poor guy.

But he’ll never know, he’s coming to realize. It’s just not in the cards.

———

It comes to a head, because of course it does. And he didn’t mean for it to, but it just happens.

They’re hanging out at Steve’s new-ish apartment. Lounging around on his, frankly, ugly floral second-hand couch. It’s musty and not all that soft on the cushions, lumpy and shifting. But they make do with it as they have a movie marathon. Steve is sprawled between the far right and middle cushion, Eddie is leaning against the left arm rest, legs crossed one over the other, head in his hand. Then, his stomach grumbles all too loudly in a room full of droning noise.

He leans into Steve’s space slightly. Reaches out a hand and places it on his thigh. Squeezes Steve’s leg and opens his mouth to ask if he’s hungry. But, for some reason, Steve tenses to the extremes underneath his touch. His hands grip harshly to the back of the couch and the throw pillow near his head. Legs going taut and straining against Eddie’s touch.

“Steve?” Eddie calls softly.

“Stop,” musters from Steve. It’s tiny. Cracking in half. Brings tears to his eyes immediately.

Eddie furrows his eyebrows, though. “What?” He asks. “What am I doing?” There’s a thrum in his chest. Something unsettling and obtuse. It pulsates and shifts and bitters his throat the way acidic bile does.

With force Eddie’s only seen in the Upside Down, Steve latches onto Eddie’s wrist. Tight enough that Eddie has to bite back a yelp of pure and unadulterated pain. Nearly enough to break the bone that Steve’s thumb digs into. He shoves Eddie away with just his grip. Scrambles to the far corner of the couch, legs tucked in close to his chest, knees colliding with his chin. He wraps his arms around himself.

And then, the softest noise breaks through between them. It’s quiet, yet somehow louder than the tape playing. It works its way under Eddie’s skin. Into his stomach, through his throat, and into his brain. Steve’s gentle, manufactured cries. Stifled behind his lips. In real time, Eddie watches him shatter. The way his eyes gloss over, his cheeks going splotchy with the sounds, his shoulders shake.

“Woah, hey,” Eddie whispers, reaching out again. He wants to ground him. Wants to comfort the way he knows how. How he soothes Wayne’s panic episodes. And how he calms Dustin down from lashing out. Or when Robin talks herself in circles. Wants to just…be there. “Hey, Steve, are you—“

“Don’t touch me,” Steve bites out, “I don’t have anything—You—I don’t want to.”

Immediately, Eddie drops his hand to the now unoccupied middle cushion. The fabric meeting his palm. Going cold. Warm where Steve had just been relaxed. And Eddie—he may be a dastardly fool most days, dumb as rock the others, three time senior—knows exactly what he did, now that he’s focused on every small movement he makes. He’s perceptive to the way Steve is leaning as far away as possible. How crumpled he makes his body. Eddie notices how much space has been created and where his hands lie.

I’m so stupid, he thinks, that’s like rule one. 

Don’t touch him without asking.

“Fuck,” Eddie softly curses. He pulls himself away. To his own corner of the sofa. And swallows the bit of panic that rises in him. His eyes drift away from Steve’s fearful face, to his own hands. Twitches them in his lap, against his knees. Wants to cut them off. Throw them into a blender. Feed them to the birds. Something. But he forces himself to look back up.

Steve trembles against the couch. In a way that is not the Steve Harrington that Eddie met when fighting other worldly creatures. That dismantles everything and anything he once knew.

“Shit. I—Steve, I’m so sorry,” he quickly apologizes. “I’m sorry. I know that you don’t like that unless people ask. And I just—I wasn’t thinking, I promise. It was just—You know, I’m touchy with all my friends and I was just going to see if you wanted me to make some dinner or order some food. I was just trying to get your attention, y’know, and I didn’t mean anything by it. I promise, I swear. I swear on my mom, Steve. I would never—“ He takes a deep, gasping breath. Coughing on the inhale. His hands shake, now. And he doesn’t think he’s ever seen fear paint itself so clear and bright on a person’s face, but he’s looking into it. Steve’s pallor and yet still red cheeks. And his all consuming, though far away eyes. His built body, yet childlike hold.

A part of Eddie wants to cry, too. I’ve fucked up, he panics internally, I’ve fucked everything up and now he’s not going to be my friend and he was such a good friend, too. Why did I have to do that? I just wanted to make sure he was fed, too. That’s it. He’s such a good friend and now I’ve fucked it and I just—I—

“You wanted to make me food?” Steve quietly croaks.

Eddie, in an instant, nods. “Yes!” He exclaims in his own panic. “Yes, I swear, Steve. I wasn’t thinking when I touched your thigh. And I—What do you want to eat, Stevie? Say the word, I’ll find a way to make it or…something.”

His hands twitch in his lap once more. Thumbs catching on the ripped holes of his jeans. The threads soft and wearing away under his skin. The scratchy, dry bit of skin that peers through. He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t think he breathes. Just makes eye contact with Steve. Which, surely, is overbearing and unnecessary and…I’m probably freaking him out more, calm down. He takes a deep breath, blows it away from him, and lowers his shoulders from where he didn’t know they were hiking.

“It was nothing more than to check-in. I promise,” he reiterates, murmuring.

Steve, finally, draws away from himself. With his own breath. He unravels his legs, stretching them out to their full length onto the middle cushion. Arms going limp at his sides. Hands resting against his thighs. His eyes dart—left and right and left and right—between Eddie’s. Nods once. “Okay,” he meekly musters. “Okay, Eds. Can…We can order pizza. There should be a menu on the kitchen counter. I’ll—“

Eddie stands from his own cushion before Steve gets the chance to. “Nope, don’t worry about it. Just try and relax, yeah? I’ll go put in an order, pay for it. You…Pepperoni pizza?” Steve just nods, tentative and surprised. “Cool,” Eddie states, “I’ll be right back.”

The phone call goes by quick and he easily sets the money out for when the driver gets there. But he’s not entirely sure his presence is going to be a warm welcome in the living room again. He gets a glass of water anyway because, surely, Steve will tell him to go if he isn’t wanted.

Steve’s in the same position as when Eddie left. Though, his gaze isn’t entirely there. Somewhere beyond Eddie’s shoulder. But there’s a gleam, a little shine that tells him that Steve isn’t gone from himself, not yet at least. He sits back down in his own cushion. Glass on the coffee table. And turns, keeping himself tight to his own body.

“Hey, Steve?” He calls out, watching as Steve blinks sluggishly back into his body. “I—uh—I got you some water, if you want it. Drinking water usually helps me feel better after…After a down moment, y’know?”

Next to him, Steve hums. He sighs. “Can I trust you with something?” He asks, forgoing the water entirely.

Eddie nods in haste. “Of course, Steve. If you have something you have to tell me, I can keep things to myself,” he states. Which is one hundred percent true. He may be a loud guy, screaming and yelling when need be. May be somebody that fills a room with noise, if only so he doesn’t succumb to the silence. But he knows how to keep a secret. It’s sort of a survival tactic, is what he’d say if somebody asked him about it. He’s kept secrets about his parents, things behind lock and key in his ribcage. Granted, he may forget, but he won’t say a damn thing. And he surely won’t spill Steve’s beans, especially with the way he looks to him in open earnest.

“Okay,” Steve responds. His legs fall away from the couch and he rights himself into being completely upright. Ramrod straight. On the far right cushion. Mirroring Eddie’s tight pose. Feet flat to the floor. His eyes trace something on the coffee table, cracks probably, but Eddie can’t exactly tell. “Okay. I…You’re going to be the second person I’ve ever told this to, alright? And I—I figured that it would come out sooner or later, but you’re gonna need an explanation for whatever the fuck just happened. And I don’t know how else to talk about it without just going all-in. So…I just need you to listen. Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs, “you have the floor, Stevie. My mouth is shut.”

Steve nods slow, a ghost of a smile on his face. Breathes in through his nose, it traps in his chest and comes out as one gentle gust. He swallows heavily, words seemingly rising in his throat. And that smile falls away just as it sprung.

“In middle school, before I was popular and whatever, I had a group of friends that I ran with. We were all nerds, I won’t deny that. And—And I would involve myself with some of their interests, if only because I wanted to fit in,” Steve explains first. His eyes roam again. Not picking a spot, but Eddie won’t fault him for it. He continues, voice fracturing, “One of the guys I was closer to, we’ll call him R, he was interested in this club. It was kind of like a tech club? Focused on radios and channels and math and…Things that I was actually kind of good with, but needed a better understanding on. So, I figured, I’d sign up for this club. Go with my…friend.”

Before he goes on to say more, he leans over for the glass of water on the table. Holds it gently between his hands. Doesn’t take any sips. The condensation droplets roll down his fingers. Cold most likely keeping him grounded to the room.

Eddie can already tell he’s not going to like wherever this part of Steve’s past leads him. How Steve has to take breaks, it upsets Eddie greatly. He’s not sure he’s entirely prepared for whatever confession comes from Steve this time, but he’ll digest it. Get through this with the guy and figure out all he needs to.

Another steadying breath. And Steve’s voice is like gravel, but he keeps talking.

“It was a weekly thing. And we’d go in. Be taught about gadgets and whats-its and whatnot. R was there, though. He was always there. We’d talk, laugh, shoot the shit. Normal friend bullshit.

“One day, though. One day, something was…different. He looked at me. There was a sense of hunger. Want. A drive to him that I’d never seen before. He’d lean more into my space, drop his voice lower, whisper right into my ear.” Steve blinks in rapid succession. His breath keeps stuttering. And something in Eddie’s stomach sours. He goes, though. Pushing through. “I told him to stop. To knock it off. Kept telling him that I was trying to learn. That I wanted to focus. And he just…He wouldn’t,” he explains.

Eddie spikes with great unease and anger. Never at Steve. But whoever this so called ‘friend’ is, Eddie wants to maybe kill him. He keeps quiet, though. Steve wanted to share and he needs this out. And Eddie can listen. He can, even if it makes him want to cry, too.

“I thought that’s all it would be,” Steve speaks quietly, “Just him talking to me in this new tone. With this new level to his voice. But…I’m kind of stupid, I guess, so of course that’s not all he’d do. The next week at our club meeting, he got closer than before. He began to…” Steve stops and swallows. A single, silent tear crawls down his face. It doesn’t even phase him, the way crying usually does. It’s just background at this point. “…He began to—to touch me in ways I’d never been. And I—I told him to stop, I remember doing that. I remember putting distance between us. And saying no and saying stop and shoving his hands off me. But he just—“ A broken little sob. “—He was supposed to be my friend,” he states, small as a child.

The sobs rack Steve in such a way that his whole body is jolting with it. Nearly toppling off the couch. He chugs the water between cries, but doesn’t move from his spot. Tight and closed off within his own body.

“I wanted him to just be my friend,” Steve continues a moment later, nasally and choked. “But he didn’t want that. He kept overpowering every single decision I made. His breath on my earlobe. And his hands on my thigh, on my…He fucking touched my crotch. Tried to coerce me into having sex,” he spits. “That guy…He made me feel fucking disgusting. About my own body. About things I loved. About sex,” Steve growls, “Made me sort of dislike all those things, too.”

Eddie, for how loud he can be, is completely silent for once. Unable to form words. Not sure how to comfort. And if he could comfort, isn’t sure if that’s something he can do the way he wants to. He can’t touch. Can’t do what he’d normally do. And his body aches to take care of Steve or to simply hold him. To be…well, to be a friend. But that’s not something Steve can exactly trust.

He feels sick to his stomach.

The last bit of water is sipped at slowly, as Steve comes down. Then, he turns to face Eddie. Making direct and purposeful eye contact. “It’s not your fault, that I reacted like I did,” he states lowly. “And it’s not your fault that I close up when you want to talk about sex. Or you wanna talk about all that intimate shit. It’s something with me. Like something’s broken. It’s like a deep crack in me, Eddie.

“And I just wanted to clear up all that. Explain what I can, I guess.” He snakes out a tentative hand. It’s shaking and hesitant, but it still lands softly on the back of Eddie’s right. Squeezes. “But thank you for taking notice. And being concerned. And for apologizing. I feel safe with you, Eddie. I trust you a lot. Which is like—That’s probably highest honors you could earn with me.” And he chuckles slightly. It’s not a humorous thing, but it’s not exactly humorless either.

Eddie lets himself soak in this, though. Smiling warmly back at Steve. Because he needs it. They both need it. He murmurs, “Thank you for trusting me with that, Steve. That wasn’t easy and I’m proud of you for speaking up about it. I’m glad to be somebody you can trust.”

With another exhale, Steve relaxes back into the couch. His hand doesn’t move from Eddie’s. “I also want to say that you’re allowed to talk about your relationships with dudes,” he states quietly. “Seriously, I don’t mind. But just…Just check in with me? Before you do?”

“Of course,” he agrees instantly. “I’ll keep that in my noggin, promise, Stevie.”

Ghost of a smile on Steve’s face again. “Thanks,” he whispers.

A lull floats in the conversation. Steve removes his hand, watching as his fingers twitch, and there’s a little uptick to the corners of his mouth. Something pleased and almost…reverent at the way he looks at his hand.

Before Eddie can get up to change out the movie, he heaves a little sigh. And says, “Y’know, if you ever need any sort of physical comfort, need to talk about this, or you just need somebody to tell you that you’re okay, you can lean on me. Don’t even need to ask, really. I’m all arms.”

“I’ll think about it, Eds. This has been enough for me."

——— Steve comes out to him at the same diner Eddie did only a few years later.

It’s 1990, Eddie’s twenty-four and Steve’s freshly twenty-three. He has a certain spark to him. A sparkle to his smile and a pep in his step. And Eddie’s happy to see him happy.

Happy to eventually call their relationship romantic. Happy to share spots on the couch, curled around each other. Happy to kiss him slow and sweet or not at all, just able to gaze over coffee mugs and across the room and when Steve thinks he can’t be seen.

Eddie’s just happy to be allowed this love that fills his chest and in the colder, vacant spots of their lives.

But he realizes he still hasn’t heard everything about Steve. He gives it time, though. Because the second most important thing to Steve—first just being there for him—is patience.

The next of their chats happens when things get heated on the couch.

Soft kisses turn hungry, carnivorous. Hands wander over heated skin. Steve’s fingers against the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt. But his hands shake. And Eddie places his own hands off to the sides of the couch, pulling himself away before things can get any farther than they already are.

“Hey,” he softly speaks, “Steve, we don’t—I’m okay with just kissing right now. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

Steve stops next to him. Tensing up only slightly. “Are you—You’re sure about that?” His voice is so tiny, so unlike him. And though Eddie’s heard this tone before, it still breaks him.

He says easily, “I don’t want you to be scared of our first time, baby. It’s okay if we need to take things slow.”

He watches as Steve heavily swallows. “And if I asked if we never had sex?”

Eddie eyes him for a moment. Not wearily. With something like subtle pride. “Is that what you want?” He asks in turn. “Would that make you more comfortable?”

Subtly, Steve nods. “I—“ He sighs sadly. “I’ve been thinking about how to talk to you about it. With girls, I never even liked it. I just did it because it…There was something to say about a guy who could have sex with anybody he wants. But I also…I don’t know.” He shrugs as if trying to dismiss it, but Eddie doesn’t like that.

He sets a hesitant, soft hand on Steve’s shoulder. Squeezes when he doesn’t move away. “If you never want to have sex again, I’d be okay with that. I’d be more than okay with that,” he states assuringly. “You being happy and comfortable is what matters most to me. Not sex. I don’t give a shit about sex, not when I get to see you every day, smile on your face, and your eyes shiny and beautiful.”

Steve gives another small sigh, but the smile he has doesn’t waver. “Okay. I—Eddie, I don’t think I want to have sex,” he admits quietly. It shakes from his throat, but it’s still confident the way it lands between them. “It just doesn’t feel good to me. And I—I don’t want to force myself to do it. And it wouldn’t be fair to you, either.”

Another affirmative squeeze to Steve’s shoulder. “Alright, baby. Then we don’t have sex,” he agrees softly. “And if you ever change your mind—not that I’m forcing you to—then I’m okay with what you want.” He scoots himself closer so that their bodies are one single line, warm against each other. Reiterating, “Your happiness and comfort matter the most to me.”

With both of his hands, Steve wraps Eddie’s free one. Traces the veins on the back of his hand. Toys with his fingers. “We can still kiss, though,” he states quietly. “Maybe I want a kiss.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Mhm,” Steve hums. So, he closes the gap. A wet peck to Eddie’s lips. Soft and venturing. One that last only a few seconds. He draws back with the softest smile adorned on his features. Murmurs, “Thank you for hearing me out on this. And for understanding. And for accepting this.”

“I love you, Steve. Just for you. Not the sex or touch. We could never do anything except sit next to each other and talk, and I’d still love you,” Eddie swears.

Steve sniffs something wet. Shoves himself a little closer, cuddling into Eddie’s chest. To which Eddie wraps his arms around his back in response. And he sighs, but it’s a sound of long awaited relief. “I love you, too, Eddie. God, I love you.”

The conversations are tough and they are stomach turning, but after it all, Eddie gets to have Steve. How he is. How he wants to be. And that’s all Eddie could hope for.

He kisses the top of Steve’s head and relaxes back into the couch. “I’m proud of you, Steve,” he murmurs, “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Thank you for being patient. Being here.”

Eddie squeezes them together even tighter. Warm in his chest at the content noise that draws itself from Steve. This could be all that they do forever and Eddie would never ask for more.

🩵—————🩵

[oddballwriter]

The Baby Dream

Summary: You tend to have "the baby dream" every once in a while, but you never really mentioned it to your boyfriend Marc let alone had a conversation about having a baby with him in general. You tell him about the one you just had this time.

Warnings: not really anything real to warn about other than the reader's character feels a little sad when they find out that their baby was only something in their dream. Implied afab reader and implied that they breastfeed their baby. 

Author’s Snip: I have a mix of baby fever and recently had a baby dream of my own so I decided to use that as a prompt.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 618

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction (you too can join my tag list, just ask)

The sound of a small soft grunt and whine wakes you right up. The morning sun breaches through the bedroom curtains and gives the room a soft lighting that makes the room visible without burning your still sleepy eyes. You look around for a bit, finding Marc still asleep and snoring softly. You sit up in bed and find the source of the noise, seeing a crib in the corner of the room along the wall.

Oh, looks like Mel's awake. Who's Mel? You and Marc's baby daughter of course!

You get up, careful not to wake Marc since he dealt with her waking up and crying in the middle of the night. Walking over to her crib, you look down and see her look back at you with her cute little eyes. They look just like the boys', all big and doe-like.

You scoop her up and out of her crib and cradle her in your arms. You feel her weight in your arms along with her squirming slightly to get comfortable.

"Good morning," you softly coo, "How'd you sleep? Huh?" you ask her. Of course, she can't answer, but judging that she didn't wake up crying like she usually does when she's had trouble sleeping, she slept just fine. Mel's tiny hands grip your pajama shirt. "I see we want breakfast now," you comment in response to her grabbing.

You walk back to the bed so that you can be comfortable while you feed her, but when you're supposed feel yourself sit, you wake up.

The room looks just the same, say for the fact that Marc is in the act of getting up out of bed this time. "Oh shit, sorry, hun. Did I wake you up?" Marc asks. You shake your head and carefully sit up and look towards the corner where Mel's crib was, but there's nothing there. No crib or baby...

Right. You don't have a baby together. It was just another baby dream that you have occasionally. You feel a bit of weight in your chest at the fact that you and Marc's baby girl wasn't real. Even though she only existed in your dream for a moment it felt so real. Like you actually had her and took care of her.

You realize that you're starting to tear up and shake off the feeling. "Sorry, I just had a dream," you explain. "Do you want to talk about it?" Marc gently asks. You take a moment and then a breath. "We had a baby," you say, "That was it. We had a baby together and I woke up to her waking up and I held her for a bit before I actually woke up." you explain further. "It's a normal thing. I have dreams where I have a baby from time to time." you mention.

Marc just look at you for a second. You look towards him to see what has him so quiet. He has that look on his face when he's thinking about something and trying to choose his words. You let him do his thinking before he finally speaks. "Do... you want a baby?" he asks.

"Yes?" you say, unsure yourself. "I don't know. It's sort of a hormone thing, like baby fever," you say. "We've never really had that talk before, I know. So I don't know if you want to have kids," you mention. "Okay, but do you want to have kids someday?" Marc rephrases his question. "Yeah. I'd like to have a family with you someday when we're ready." you answer.

Marc nods. "Yeah..." he says, "I think that would be a good conversation to have sometime soon." he adds with a slight smile.

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

Happy Holidays to Pep and the gang!

Pep: "..."

Pep: "Mrrp!"

Pep: "Niaga uoy ees ot deticxe ma I!!! Syadiloh yppah!!! Sdneirf olleh!!!"

Pep: "Kool emoc! Enoyreve rof staert gnikam yad lla ysub neeb ev'ew!"

Pep: "Olleh yas sdneirf ruo! Kcirb ,kool kool!"

Brick: *happy greeting squeak!*

Pep: "Enoyreve rof eikooc a edam ew! Kool!"

Pep: "Sdneirf, uoy rof tsuj eno laiceps a s'ereht dna!"

(Happy holidays to you too! Everyone can't be here right now, but I hope you guys enjoy a little bonus post for now, hehe)

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever

[sol-draws-sometimes]

Maybe it’s my fear of not being believed but I literally can’t do comedy where the other person isn’t being believed. Straight up, at first I would get stressed when the Human Centipede clip was going around. Like, do you know how terrifying it is to be in a wild ass date where you think you’re in danger and the waiter notices but has they have to open their mouth so now you have lie. Or the Elmo Rocko memes like, OF COURSE ELMO’S DISTRESSED! I WOULD BE TOO! LIKE EVERYONE IS TELLING YOU THIS ROCK IS REAL WHEN IT’S NOT(and like yah I’m sure there’s nuance to the situation but like COME ON).

Or Bibi from La Familia Peluche, I remember liking the show as kid and I still do but like, fuck man, the borderline emotional abuse than girl goes through IS WILD. LIKE EVERYONE FUCKING TELLING YOU THAT YOU’RE NOT NORMAL AND FEELING LIKE YOU’RE GOING CRAZY. I remember rewatching La Familia Peluche in Highschool and like fuck man, that period episode. Or to this day I remember the scene where they were serving food and she started to eat first and her family chastised her so she stops but then they make her feel back cause she already started so now she just continue to eat it and like I’ve literally been in a similar situation. And for those who haven’t watched the show, the whole shitck is that this is an absurd world where everyone works on a different level and Bibi’s the only who reacts normally to our eyes(the comedic straight man to alot of the jokes), which leads to the iconic line “Bibi porque no eres una niña normal”(Bibi why aren’t you a normal girl) that is said in every episode. Which from a dramatic irony perspective that we the audience know she’s the only normal person, makes it a funny joke, but if you think about it too hard, it’s so fucking sad, I just can’t help but not fully enjoy the show cause I just constantly feel bad for her.

Fuck even watching HALF LIFE VR BUT THE AI IS SELF AWARE FUCKS WITH ME! Like yes I very much enjoy the series! But, most of the time I’m just feeling bad for Gordon, like fuck man, I’d react the same way, wouldn’t you. Like ESPECIALLY BENRY! MAN DID HE STRESS ME OUT! I genuinely felt so bad for Gordon!

And then this slides into how I can’t enjoy alot of comedy(especially cringe humor) cause even though I understand the joke and think it funny on paper, I just end up feeling too bad for the character to actually enjoy. And it’s awful because I’ll STILL watch the shows because I’m invested in the characters not the humor if that makes sense??? (Oh, Community/The Office, the hate love relationship I have with you).

Anyway, yes I’m so fun to watch comedy with, I literally can’t be in the same room from some scenes. And yes, all my favorite characters follow the Only Sane Man trope, why’d you ask?

[nostalgia-tblr]

So I am ostensibly doing Fic Research by rewatching an episode of telly and re that post about Depressing Sylvie Headcanons I think it is probably correct and Sylvie no longer speaks Asgardian, for I def got the vibe that she has no idea what the words to that song are.

Meanwhile, look at the stance, look at the swagger:

This 'serenading the lady (or gentleman, or whoever) to win them over' technique has worked before and is expected to work again. That's confidence. Misplaced confidence, but it's still confidence.

However:

Oh no, the lad is smitten. Caught in your own spell, you idiot. You fool. You protagonist who will be heartbroken a few episodes from now.

[quietwingsinthesky]

having. feelings about “wincesties dni” banners. (Feelings do expand more broadly than this specific ship/situation, but for reference, this is what we’ll work with)

On one level, I do understand the desire to not have your work perceived in a way that makes you uncomfortable or triggers you. That’s a valid boundary to have. I would feel weird if someone came onto one of my gen fics about. uh. who do I write gen for. Jack & Lucifer. And started talking about shipping them in the comments or wherever, when that was explicitly not the point of what I’d written and I did not want to be involved in that conversation, especially if it’s concerning my piece.

So, it does make sense to me to have a disclaimer of “hey, I made this art/fic/etc to portray this dynamic, please do not apply any other to it”. (Like, no, you can’t stop anyone from doing that anyway, but you can make that boundary and that makes whoever ignores it an asshole.)

But on another level, that’s not what the banners say, is it? It’s “wincesties dni”, not “hey this stuff is gen, do not talk about Sam/Dean on it”. It’s “if you are one of the Bad People, do Not touch my post.” Which feels. Idk. You can do whatever you want on the internet, but that does feel kind of presumptuous. Speaking as someone who has written wincest before, who has looked at the show through that lens, the fact that I have done that does not mean I am now unable to perceive it any other way.

Like, bluntly, just because I have dabbled in wincest (or michifer or hell, any ship actually?) does not mean I’ve suddenly lost the ability to look at gen works about the two characters and take it at that. I like gen Sam & Dean content, probably more than I like wincest, but at the same time, I do linger in the space from wincest-adjacent to shipper. so it’s always. Weird. To come across art or fic I adore and then to get slammed with a “wincesties dni” thing at the end. Like, am I too dirtied by association to be allowed to enjoy it? is my sin so great that everything i reblog shall be tainted? am I being a little fucking dramatic about fandom nonsense?

Sorry about all that. I’m just having some thoughts. I want to reblog cute art. That’s all.

[arom-com]

hi hope this is ok but i've seen sooo many of ur posts tagged as renbrand and i am ... perhaps .... a little curious .... would u like to tell me abt them !!!! 👀👀 (its ok if not ofc)

Ofc!! I sure have been tagging them a lot huh

The short version is that they’re my unhinged lesbian ocs stuck in a murder timeloop

Longer version is this:

(I am not going to be able to explain this in any way approaching coherent) (but I will try!!) (sorry in advance for the Wall of Text)

So RenBrand stands for these two:

Ren Hayashi (23, she/they) university student studying criminal psychology, abandonment issues out the wazoo, Going Through It

Brand Reitveld (26, she/her) local gang leader, Control Issues TM, definitely the cat in whatever cat-and-mouse thing they have going on

They’re in love — it’s not even remotely healthy.

Basically, through no fault of their own, they got stuck in a long-form time loop (days/months rather than strict 24h) that resets whenever one of them dies, which wouldn’t be too much of an issue? Except a) they’ve never met and don’t know they’re stuck together, and b) Ren keeps getting fucking murdered

Bc!! Ren’s psychology prof is running a secret cult (trying to turn his crim psy students into serial killers, it’s a whole thing, very cringe of him) so she gets killed for accidentally getting in the way a couple times (she doesn’t know about the cult), and then ofc starts investigating, which only makes it worse (I feel so bad for her but it’s also really funny, saddest most pathetic sopping wet oc I’ve ever created)

(Some of Ren’s deaths are also caused by Brand who’s like listen I don’t have a grudge against you or anything but you do keep getting my people killed so I have to eliminate the threat, no hard feelings! And Ren is like I am in abject misery)

(strangers to enemies to lovers except the strangers to enemies is a speedrun and the enemies to lovers is a slow burn)

The story they’re from is sort of a dark mystery-slash-romance (think nbc hannibal meets groundhog day, which is certainly a sentence), and it’s mainly centred around Ren and her corruption arc as she goes from “tired student just trying to finish her dissertation if it kills her” to “codependent mob-wife who kills first and asks questions later”

I’m obsessed with time as a narrative device, and especially time loops, because it can be used in such interesting ways!! And the interesting part about time loops to me is that they’re like,,,,, rube goldberg machines for character development? You only stick a character in a time loop when you need them to undergo a pretty drastic change without a proper catalyst, and it forces them to wear themselves down to their bones, to find the very essence of what they are, and then build themselves back up again into their ideal and purest form of self. (Of course, some people just use them as a tool for romance, but that’s boring!! Boo)

Usually time loops exist to make a character better, because they’re given some kind of epiphany that makes them the best and kindest version of themselves. (Alternatively, they can be used as the cosmic equivalent of a washing machine spin cycle if you’re writing horror) But what interests Me is the idea of using a time loop to make a character worse, which is what I’m doing to Ren (and to a lesser extent, Brand)

And it’s not just corruption for corruption’s sake, either! Ren, as she is, is miserable — she’s completely isolated, unable to achieve any of her goals, and ultimately ends up getting killed in an impersonal way for impersonal reasons — but once the loop begins and she gets her second chance, she starts to wear away at all her self-imposed barriers and boundaries until she can start making her own decisions and being an active agent in her own life. Of course, she’s not choosing to do good, but the best version of herself is not necessarily Good or Kind, it’s just Authentic.

Brand, on the other hand — because she has more support and isn’t as repressed — is experiencing the time loop less as a vehicle for character development, and more as a perpetual time travel fix-it (which is SO fun, having two characters get wildly different outcomes from the same experience). Her problems are more interpersonal rather than internal, so where Ren is using the extra time to understand herself, Brand uses it to understand the world around her (and is thus doing a much better job at actually solving the plot, we love a girlboss).

Brand’s conflicts are with her brother (who I can’t even Begin to explain without adding another thousand words to this post), and (as the leader of the local gang) with the police & the murder cult, which means that a lot of her loops are spent information-gathering (and murdering, dw abt it)

Personality-wise Ren is pretty quiet, she doesn’t like to ask for things which means she gets into miscommunications a lot (people not helping when she wishes they would, people helping when she doesn’t need it bc they think she just doesn’t want to ask), she’s a very “the only one you can rely on is yourself” kind of person, which isn’t exactly ideal for someone you’re stuck in a time loop with but at least it means she never gives up? She also doesn’t really care what people think of her — or rather, she does care, but she doesn’t let it stop her

Brand is suffering from a lethal combination of being the youngest sibling and simultaneously the eldest daughter, so she’s great at asking for help and using her resources but it means that she a) is a little entitled about it, and b) needs to feel like she has perfect control over everything or she’ll die. She’s very possessive and protective over things that she considers hers (hence murdering Ren for getting her people killed, it’s fine they get over it)

Renbrand also come equipped with two sets of narrative foils (Brand’s disabled ex-ballet dancer brother and his bodyguard/love interest, and the cult leader professor and his prized pupil who both hates and loves him for what he’s become) but the word count on this is already obscenely, embarrassingly long so I’ll talk abt them another day maybe

[forestofsprites]

Orpheus and Eurydice

There are some very Orpheus and Eurydice themes in the narrative of Ed and Stede that do indeed make me feel many things. For the record, I'm using one specific take on the myth here (specifically not the one in Symposium), but as is standard for myths, there are many different opinions on the nuances- this is merely one of them.

First and foremost, we need death. Stede endures this in a more literal sense- legally, he is now dead. An act of devotion, perhaps, as he seeks to cultivate a fresh start with his love. Equally, however, Ed himself undergoes a death. Not only does he gift Stede a disordered burial at sea, but he invokes one for himself, too. In episode ten, he lets the red silk representing his heart sail steadfast across the ocean. Anyone who's familiar with the ending of Orpheus' life will know that upon his death, his head and dutiful lyre were sent floating down the Hebrus River, straight out to sea. While Ed is alive both literally and legally, he sacrificed his heart- washed to the ocean much like Orpheus himself.

Next up, we travel to the crux of the myth. The quintessential theme of mournful love. The deep and burning sort, the kind that drives you to the underworld in an attempt to rectify what was so tragically lost. In OFMD we need to backtrack to episode nine, to Edward and his act of grace declaration; a show of all he'd lose, all he would risk, to keep his love safe. He accepts the journey, perils and all! Stede mirrors this in episode ten by not simply closing the door on his past, but by going so far as killing himself off, playing with death, in order to truly live life alongside his love. Much like Orpheus, this poignantly speaks to the boundaries that need to be crossed- both that metaphorical death and journey, but also the literal treck he'll be undertaking as he pursues his lost love.

Orpheus finds himself underground because of this simple, grief-driven hope that death cannot be final- it must be negotiable. He brings his lyre, performing a most dismal tune, and the gods presiding over the Underworld are so utterly moved by his performance that a glimmer of hope is provided. Go on then, find Eurydice, but here is your caveat: have trust, have faith, know that she is there and do not allow your eyes to wander. It's the backbone of all relationships epitomized to the highest stakes. You need to trust in yourself that your partner will be there, to have that faith that when you make it to the Overworld, they'll be right behind you.

For Ed and Stede, this is episode nine. Edward returns from the Underworld, preparing for a new life- for them to enter the Overworld together- but his love is not there. This doesn't follow the myth's narrative to a T- but it does bring us back to the idea of trust and faith- both in your partner and moreso, in yourself. It's the nagging fear that this is too good to be true- that the excitement can snap back to grave reality in a heartbeat. Both Edward and Orpheus turn around with buoyant hope, and in doing so, they are instead faced with their worst fear.

(One possible reading of the myth could be that in season two, Stede will be making his journey to the Underworld, seeking out his lost love. All the while, Ed has already made his trip downstairs, lost his love, and had his heart utterly grief-stricken in the process. There are so many ways to slice up this myth, but the themes are wonderfully applicable!)

[lyril]

i feel like the implications of how magic works in adventure time are kind of messy, and could probably use some more exploration, but i do appreciate how there really is varying levels of magic, madness, and sadness that go into it. it's extremely interesting if it's all very personal, in that way.

so, i also appreciate that, even in losing his magic and madness, we get to see a simon who's still clearly very, very deeply sad in fionna & cake

as with the other paralells in their characters, and despite him noting that his sadness seems to be gone, i feel like in adventure time this is... still the case for magic man, as well? there's some things that he does that are also very reminiscent of simon after he also becomes "normal", or maybe more accurately, that simon does that are like an extension of all of this, and of course a reflection of how he's now in a similar position that betty, and therefore, magic man, has been in

for instance, as normal man, he very clearly feels a lot of guilt over what he's done as magic man (even if, with the differences in their circumstances, simon is a lot more hesistant to really call ice king's actions his own), to the point of...

...self sacrificial suicidality.

because, shout out to magic man for uh, renaming himself to "normal man" and then getting finn and jake to help rescue his brother, only to immediately be like "actually, maybe i should just go get thrown off of a cliff, i kind of deserve it anyway" when they get there (peak normal behavior, of course) (was this not extremely concerning to anyone else. for the love of god please help me)

and, as with simon, i feel like it's pretty obvious he's not over margles

he definitely acts like he is, and as wonderfully put and analyzed in this post, he seems to be projecting onto betty in trying to help her, instead

up to this point, things have definitely been looking up for him, maybe compared to simon at the start of fionna & cake. it's interesting they've also almost swapped their position as a "king". but, i still think he wasn't doing the best, underneath the demeanor that just seems to be how he is, he's still not really being open about what he actually feels now that he can, well, feel it all again

magic man doesn't nearly get as much exploration, with the limited amount of screentime that he has compared to simon, but, outside of the circumstances they're in, i think there are a lot of paralells between all of these characters that aren't as discussed as much others (he's even implied to have been a science guy himself!)

[dashiellqvverty]

didn’t think i’d find a “i’m truly horrified by the fact that someone is okay with not just writing but publicly posting this” fic in the fucking. r/oyjam/ie tedlasso tag of all things but here we are. i genuinely feel a little fucking sick over it.

[dan-crimes]

I always forget how much time I invested in my Inanimate Insanity interest until I go and look back and holy shit I drew how much shit constantly???

[sukifoof-art]

hey, happy pride! :D i wanted to ask if you had any aromantic headcanons, from one aro to another <3

OH I DO THANK U FOR ASKING!!! honestly being aro is such an. Experience. so a lot of these are cuz i can personally relate to these characters in an Aro Way

ok my Number One favorite aro headcanon is flowey. i feel like his Everything fits the Aro Experience pretty well and it was one of the main reasons i could relate to him when i was first figuring out that im aro!! it was very comforting at that point in my life to see a very aro and traumatized character who is allowed to save everyone and have a happy ending with his friends (alarm clock dialogue my beloved)

i also really like the idea of aro haruka kokonose!! especially cuz hes so weird about friends and doesnt really seem to understand what exactly friends are supposed to be,,, honestly i read his feelings towards takane as "omg my First Good Friend.... my positive feelings towards her MUST mean im in love with her!!!" which is something i have experienced many times

AND!!!! aro shintaro kisaragi.... how he feels like hes such a cold person and how he didnt seem to notice ayano had a crush on him........ for me it was kind of hard to come to terms with being aro and i feel like. yeah shintaro would have similar feelings. but eventually he could learn to love himself and that its ok if he doesnt want a relationship :):)

ok and my Other big one that i think about a lot is aro femt from kekkai sensen...... most of the reason for why i think this way is in his light novel but Basically his whole thing is how he wants to be normal and he wants to understand how other people feel and he just kind of feels. Lonely And Weird. and he just does Not seem to understand love at all,,, femt understands

i dont really have big explanations for these ones i can just feel it in my soul - aro bisexual dio brando - aroace giegue and lucas from the mother series - demi mushi bsd - grayro toriel - aro pansexual arataki itto - grayro bisexual vash the stampede

thank u for this ask i love talking about my aro hcs :):) if anyone makes it this far into the post feel free to leave ur aro hcs (or any hcs really) on this post i would love to see them <3

[m0e-ru]

annual realization where this gas station’s operations and my life owe it all to visualive i’m serious

[swordwife]

severian....